387

387

DUKE ELLINGTON : The Mooche

Smoke pours from, of Tiger-God, mouth.

Fire winding through plantation,

Over river and the rainsoaked hills. Om.

The water seethes with reptiles.

There is a temple behind Stone Mountain

Where they lay the bodies in a trough.

“Darling you must pledge yourself to me.

Darling you must belong to me entire.

I have a sort of fever coming on again.”

Beaa! More light! More smoke!

Wheel out the harlequin. Light!

“They dance willy-nilly from their ropes.

Darling they dancy silly from their rope.”

A water buffalo rolls into the dirty water,

Schauming vigourously of its pale blood,

Desparate to breathe, eyes gone astray.

None of this will amount to any good.

“The lease is out, signor. We must depart,

If we are to make the first boat tomorrow.

La signora will need to come with us, certo.”

Wha wha baba do doop de—ah!

Break the cage and let him fly!

He was a pupa, and we find him a Gestalt.

And some fool said “we all wear masks”?

He, no. He is as blithe and naked as the day.